


A Proper Euology

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-15
Updated: 2006-03-15
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8090686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Sometimes there are people you just won't miss. (04/18/2003)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Ever met one of those people who just didn't seem to get tha t they *weren't* the center of the universe? Alas, I live with one. RB and I came up with the idea for this fic when we were really angry with our "esteemed" housemate and would have loved nothing better than to dip him in hot wax and turn him into a human candle for our porch. When we came up with the idea, I don't think we ever had any intention to actually write it. But, "Crewman Bainer" being what he is, it is not surprising that I got irritate d with him again very quickly, and sat down and wrote this fic rather than murdering him. Better humor than anger, yes? Anyway, hope you enjoy.  
  
Beta: ReginaBellatrix  


* * *

Fires blazed all around and one could hear the sounds of explosions everywhere. Malcolm looked around frantically for his crewmate. He'd found everyone; everyone but Crewman Bainer. Was it too late?

Then he saw him. His twisted body lay beneath the remnants of the bar, glass bottles stuck out haphazardly from his mangled body, clearly having impaled him with the force of the explosion.

If the situation were not so dangerous, Malcolm would have laughed. What an appropriate way for Bainer to die. He lifted up the body so he could carry it to the shuttlepod. They would, after all, have to throw a funeral for the wretch.

* * *

"Come in." Captain Archer looked up when Lieutenant Reed entered.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"I have some...sad news to report. I felt it would be best to tell you directly."

"Yes."

"Crewman Bainer...is dead."

"Yes!" Captain Archer's eyes widened in horror. Had he said that out loud? "I mean...no. That's terrible. A sad day for the ship."

"Indeed, sir."

"Better tell Trip. He'll want to know a member of his crew is dead."

"I already did, sir."

"And?"

"I believe his response was the same as yours. The first response, that is."

Jon had the grace to look sheepish. "Oh."

"He wants you to give the eulogy."

"Uh...I'm sure he'd be much better at it than I would."

"No. He said he would be unable to do...justice to the man."

//No kidding//, Jon thought. //You can't call a man a lazy son of a bitch at his own funeral.//

"What about you Lieutenant?"

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"That's an order."

"Then I resign."

"Damn."

"The service will be held tomorrow at noon."

"Can't we just thrust his body out an airlock and be done with it?"

"Captain, you're the one who wouldn't let us do that when he was alive, and if you had let us, you wouldn't be in this situation now. It's your own fault; therefore you have to give the eulogy."

"You're cruel, Malcolm. You know that?"

Malcolm grinned. "You wouldn't have hired me if I weren't."

Jon sighed. "Dismissed Lieutenant."

Malcolm nodded and left the room. Jon shuddered at the thought of having to give the eulogy. How could he possibly think of anything nice to say about Crewman _Bainer_? The crew hated him. He hated him. Everyone who'd ever met him hated him. Maybe he could ask T'Pol to give the eulogy. Vulcans couldn't hate anyone, right?

* * *

Archer stepped onto the bridge and, spying T'Pol, walked quickly in her direction.

"T'Pol," Jon said cheerfully. She looked up at him suspiciously. Well, as suspiciously as a Vulcan was capable of looking. "T'Pol, I don't suppose you would be willing to perform the eulogy for Crewman Bainer?"

"What's the purpose of this eulogy?"

"Well, you say nice things about someone that's died."

"I would be unable to do so, sir."

"Why?"

"Because Vulcans do not lie."

"Oh." His face fell. "Could you try this once?"

"It would be illogical."

"Why?" Jon winced at the sound of his own voice.

"Because there are no nice things to be said about this man."

"Damn."

Jon glanced over and saw Hoshi. "Hoshi!"

"No, sir."

"Pardon?"

"I will not give the eulogy."

"Why not?"

"Because I hate him. Do you know that I let him borrow my spices and cooking pots once and he took that to mean he could use them _all the time_? No. Sorry. Can't do it."

Jon gave a weak smile. "Travis?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"I'll give you the week off."

"No."

"And ask Chef to prepare all your favorite meals."

"No."

"Anything I can say to convince you?"

"Nothing comes to mind."

"Damn."

* * *

Several hours later, Trip, Malcolm and Jon stood in front of Crewman Bainer's quarters. Jon had ordered Trip to open the door so they could clear out Bainer's personal effects, however, Jon had another agenda in mind. He hoped after looking through Bainer's things that he'd be able to find something nice to write about him. Like, he was good at such and such sport, he was neat, tidy, etc.

Jon was lost in thought when he heard Malcolm's shocked gasp.

"Hey, Mal. It's okay. Really. Ya don't have to get that excited about it." Trip was gallantly trying to calm the hyperventilating armory officer down.

"Trip, look at that! It's disgusting."

Trip started to pat Malcolm's back and then looked up at Jon. "My Mal's a bit of a neat freak."

"Trip, it's...it's...messier than _your_ room," Malcolm sputtered.

"See. Now ya can never complain again."

Jon peered into the room and his mouth fell open in shock. The floor was littered with clothes, wrappers, potato chips, beer bottles, food bits, and several unidentifiable objects. Jon glanced over as Malcolm pulled out his phase pistol and set it to kill.

"What are you doing, Malcolm?"

"Preparing myself."

"For what?"

"For anything that may be alive in there."

Jon and Trip peered inside again warily.

"Lieutenant, why don't you go first?"

"Sure. Now you want me to go first. Well, this time you can bloody well go in first yourself."

"That's an order. And you've already resigned so don't try pulling that again."

Malcolm glared then took a deep breath and stepped inside. "Holy shit!"

"What?"

"Have you seen the walls?"

Jon and Trip entered gingerly.

"Wow." Trip said. The walls were covered in beer labels. Clearly all beer labels that the dead crewman had tried at one time.

"Aren't they supposed to screen people for stuff like this?" Trip asked.

"Screen people?"

"Yeah. Are alcoholics supposed to get these kinds of positions?"

"Good point."

Meanwhile, Malcolm was diligently scanning the floor for any signs of movement. And then he saw it. The shiny silver end of a phase pistol. Malcolm picked it up, gasping. It was covered with some sticky substance and was dented and scratched. Malcolm looked like he was about ready to cry.

Then he pulled himself together, lips tightly compressed.

"I'm going to kill him."

"He's already dead, Mal."

"I'll kill him again."

"Can't. Impossible."

"Fine.

Malcolm walked over to the comm link. "Crewman Nicols?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I found our missing phase pistol."

"Oh?"

"Crewman Bainer had it."

"Oh?"

"Would you be so kind as to get his body out and set it up on the target. Then inform the crew that there will be target practice today."

Crewman Nicols replied "Yes, sir!" with a disturbingly cheerful voice.

Archer ran over to the comm link and pushed Malcolm aside. "Crewman Nicols? Leave Bainer's body where it is."

This time his "Yes, sir." wasn't nearly as enthusiastic.

"Malcolm, what would the admiral say if we used a dead crewman's body for target practice?"

"Can I take a shot?"

"Uh...well, maybe. But still, I'm sure the press wouldn't like it."

"Fine."

"Now let's get a crew in here to clean this up."

"Maybe we should get Phlox in here first to make sure nothin's toxic," Trip

commented.

"Good idea."

* * *

Jon stood in front of his crew, trying desperately to think of something nice to say about Bainer. He'd tried writing a speech beforehand but the words just hadn't come. He'd hoped that he'd be able to say something on the spur of the moment, but...no.

//Crewman Bainer was...lazy. No...no. Stupid? No.//

Unfortunately, as he was trying to come up with something to say, the words

only came out as "Uh..."

//Bad-tempered? No. A drunkard? No.//

"Uh..."

//A whiney little two year old? No. Ugly? No.//

"Uh..."

// Not a Vulcan? No, T'Pol wouldn't like that remark.//

"Uh...he wasn't..." No, no, not Vulcan. "Klingon."

The entire crew nodded in agreement.

//Damn. He probably had to say more.//

"Although he had the temperament of one. Did I say that out loud?"

The crew nodded again.

"Oh. Um..."

//He was disgusting? No. Hypocritical? No.//

"Charming. He was charming. Of course he was only charming when he wanted something from you. I said that out loud, too, didn't I?"

The crew nodded again. Jon could hear snickers coming from the audience.

"Uh..."

//He was a liar? No. Bad cook? No//.

"I'm sure...uh, he'll make a wonderful contribution to space. As dust. Maybe he'll be a new star one day."

The crew smiled. Hey, that was pretty good. Very poetic.

"Now let's shove him out the airlock." Everyone cheered.


End file.
